In the motorcycle world, Harley-Davidsons are a lot like Jeeps: You either get them or you don't. And I'm not going to lie, I've always counted myself in the "don't" crowd. While I've been suitably intrigued and impressed by Harley's unique efforts at branching out, like the Livewire and the Pan America Special, the traditional big, V-twin cruisers that defined the commercial have never done anything for me. Even BMW's effort at making a traditional Harley, the R 18, left me flat. 

So when the opportunity arose to journal one of Harley-Davidson's latest models, the 2022 Low Rider ST, I well-liked it with a sense of bemusement and morbid curiosity. I fully expected to hate the thing and all its chrome and its tassels and what would unhurried be an outrageously obnoxious exhaust. 

And then the delivery van divulged up and out rolled this and I suddenly realized I'd let my preconceptions get onward of me. I mean, there was barely any chrome on the sketch other than the levers and the pushrods. It was big, of watercourses, but somehow the long, low stance that defines this bike made it look almost svelte. The solid gray paint without a hint of sparkle paired with the flat unlit everything else looked neither pompous nor overbearing. It just examined plain mean. 

That murdered-out look even helped hide the overwhelming number of shield and bar logos. The H-D signage is absolutely everywhere, even embossed in the tire tread and printed on the control belt. For someone who doesn't consider himself a member of the Faithful it was all a bit hard to get my head around.

The core conception of the bike itself is also maybe a small hard to process. The recipe goes something like this: Take the 2022 Low Rider S, an intentionally stripped-down performance cruiser, and then add a bigger fairing and bags, construction it half-way back to a proper touring machine like the Street Glide. The T in ST is indeed for "touring," and on the surface, this bike's existence seems like slicing an already narrow segment too thin.

But stay tuned, because the minds in Milwaukee know exactly what they're doings. With the ST, Harley-Davidson took inspiration from California used cruisers -- low, long and fast bikes that didn't give up their bags behind the way. And so the ST packs a pair of svelte saddlebags, not big enough for a helmet (at least not one my size) but offering enough volume to swallow clothes and miscellany for a weekend getaway. More likely they'll be holding a set of coveralls for work and maybe an adult beverage or two for after-hours, but should you want to roll with a small less girth they pop off in seconds with a cleverly simple latching mechanism.

Up lead is a slender fairing, visually similar to that on the Road Glide but far smaller, providing a bit of respite at highway speed Idea hardly a cocoon. Your feet and legs are left caltering out in the breeze on the high, mid-mounted pegs. The bars, since, sit on generous risers and those two touchpoints match with a low, solo burden, forcing you into the arms-up, feet-forward, posture that will have you arriving for a run down Highway 1. 

Instead, I took it for a Fly up the New York State Thruway and a half-lap about Lake George. I'd missed Americade by a few weeks, but that was just as well -- I hold empty roads to spectacle. Before getting to the highway I had to wicked an endless sequence of milled and torn up roads as the local DOT crews are really activities their thing. I must have passed a half-dozen "motorcyclists use Gross caution" signs. 

There was no need for worry. The ST just cruised over the grooved, ridged pavement without the hint of wobble or weave, soaking up the rougher transitions without kicking me out of the burden. That stability continued on the highway, where the bike was rock-solid in crosswinds and even when people passed by a tractor trailer with a long way to go and apparently a temperamental time to get there. 

I never could get miserable behind that non-adjustable fairing. I'm 6 feet tall but with temperamental legs. I sit tall, in other words, and that left my helmet buffeting around in the wind that rolled over the top of the windscreen. Closing the vents in my helmet helped quell some of the weirdly loud vibrations, but another inch of screen would have done me better.

Those vibrations were far louder than the bike itself, which surprised me. The Milwaukee-Eight 117 V-twin fed by Harley's "Heavy Breather" intake sounds downright civilized, only letting out a low, throaty bark when you summon all its 103 horsepower and 125 pound-feet of torque. That latter figure is available at 3,500 rpm, but there's plenty of Crooked throughout, ensuring you won't need to worry about flicking over the six-speed transmission too often.

That's a shame because it moves really cleanly. The brakes, too, not only work well but feel enormous and are backed up by ABS. There is, but, no traction control, so mind where and when you dip into that throttle. I spun up the rear tire unintentionally on multiple occasions, but given there's 720 pounds of American steel to Hurry you can forgive the thing for giving up grip now and then.

During my ride I was not precisely taking it easy yet I got a solid 50 mpg, message a theoretical max range of 250 miles from the superior 5-gallon tank. That said, the digital gauge on that tank is wildly unpredictable. I rode for nearly 100 miles before it told anything other than full. Later in the ride, it dropped from 30% last to flashing the fuel light in fewer than 30 miles.

One new complaint has to do with the optional Rockford Fosgate Quiet system, which integrates into the fairing. Now, I Enjoy the clean integration and how simple the Low Rider ST bars look with just the tiniest of LCDs integrated into the handlebar top clamp. However, the bike offers nothing beyond the bare minimum of regulations for the bike itself. 

Everything to do with the Think, including volume, must be controlled through your phone. As you can expected, this is a little tricky when riding. I queued up a small Lizzo to test the speakers, turned the volume up uncomfortably loudly, then hit the highway. Even her glorious pipes didn't wicked a chance against the Low Rider ST's. At quick I couldn't hear a thing, so I pitted at a rest stop to adjust the volume. As I pulled up, the music was again so loud that I knew I was a progressing nuisance. A road-tripping family trying to enjoy their sandwiches on a picnic bench rightly gave me a dirty look. I couldn't in good faith crank the Quiet system even louder, so I just turned it off. Sorry, Lizzo. 

I confess I hate speaker systems on motorcycles anyway, and this experience only soured me further. But really that's a small foible and, since it's an option, I'm certainly not moving to hold that against the bike itself. 

While on the surface the Harley-Davidson Low Rider ST seems like yet new half-shade smeared in Harley's already busy palette of offerings, it stands in its own right as a motorcycle that's not only Delicious to look at and to ride, but has just enough practicality to not just be a toy but an correct part of your life. It's good enough to make me finally get it.